Mag-log inMarco Fontana arrived at the mansion in the dead of night, hidden in the back of a laundry van. Isabella waited for him in the east wing sitting room with the curtains pulled tight and a single lamp burning. After the funeral, Luca had given the burned-edged note to Gentile with one order, and Gentile had carried it to her without a word. *Whoever can read a forgery, find him.* It was the first time since the church that Luca had trusted her with something, and she had known at once whom to call.Luca was at the docks hunting Rocco, so Gentile had gone himself to fetch the old man. The door opened without a knock, and Gentile stepped in first, checking the hall over his shoulder. Behind him came a short, round man in a crumpled gray coat, with thick glasses, a faded bow tie, and a battered leather case clutched in both hands."Isabella, cara," Marco Fontana said softly, setting down the case and opening his arms. "Look at you. Look at what they have done to you."She crossed the room
The television in Dante's hotel suite showed the burned church for the fifth time.He stood in front of it with a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the same dust and the same black smoke roll across the screen. A woman reporter stood on the broken pavement of a Brooklyn street, speaking in a shaky voice. *Three people are in the hospital, and police say the blast came from a floral arrangement left at the church door…*"Three," Dante said softly, his knuckles whitening around the glass. "Three people in the hospital."The picture changed to a shaky video taken from a phone, and for two seconds he saw her, a small figure in a black coat, lying under a man's body behind a hearse.The glass cracked in his fist. Whiskey ran down his wrist and onto the carpet, and he did not feel it. He hurled the glass at the wall, and it exploded in a shower of gold and crystal. Then he snatched his phone from the table, and his thumb stabbed the screen so hard that it nearly broke.The call was ans
"Drop it!" Isabella screamed, her voice cracking across the street. "Drop it right now!"The young man in the green apron stared at her with his mouth open and the wreath still held against his chest. The ticking from between the white lilies grew louder and faster, until she could hear nothing else."Signora?" he asked, his smile fading into confusion, one foot sliding back on the wet pavement. "I don't understand, I only…""Bomb!" Gentile roared, throwing himself forward. He seized the boy by the collar and ripped the wreath from his arms, then hurled it away from the crowd. It landed on the church steps in a spray of petals, right beneath the great wooden doors. Then he shoved the screaming boy flat on the pavement and covered his head with both hands. "Everybody down! Get away from the church!"The street broke into panic. Women shrieked, and men dived behind cars. The coffin bearers, still halfway down the steps, let go of Savio's casket in horror, and it crashed onto the stone.
Savio was buried on a gray morning, under a sky so low that it looked ready to fall.St. Anselm's Church stood on a narrow street in Brooklyn, with old brick walls and a crooked bell tower. A hundred men in black suits filled the sidewalk outside, and nobody talked. Isabella stepped out of the car with a black veil over her face and one hand on her belly, and Marco Gentile took her elbow before she could stumble."Stay close to me, signora," Gentile said under his breath, his eyes moving across the rooftops, his grip firm and almost rough. "Do not walk ahead, and do not stand near the windows.""I understand, Marco," Isabella answered quietly, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. "Where is Luca?"Gentile nodded toward the church steps, his jaw tight. "Inside with the family, signora. He has not spoken a word to anyone since dawn."She looked, and her heart tightened. Luca stood alone at the top of the steps in a black coat, his hands clasped in front of him and a fresh banda
Luca's study was the only room in the mansion where no one ever came without knocking.Isabella stood just inside the door with her back against the dark wood, and the lock turned under her trembling fingers with a sound like a gunshot. The lamp on the desk threw a thin yellow light across the leather chairs and the shelves of old books.He did not sit. He stood by the window with his hands behind his back, looking out at the black garden, and the blood on his collar had begun to dry."The recording, Isabella," he said, without turning around, his voice flat and quiet. "I'm waiting.""It's real," she whispered, pressing her palms flat against the door behind her. "Whatever Riccardo has, it's real. I was talking to Dante."Luca's shoulders did not move, but she saw his hands tighten behind his back until the knuckles went white. "Go on," he said, still not looking at her."He found me in Rome, three months before you did." The words came fast now, tumbling over each other, as if a dam
Luca could not feel his legs, but he kept walking.Every step sent a knife of pain up his thigh, and the burned skin on his shoulders cracked and wept inside his torn shirt. He stopped in the doorway of the war room, because there was nowhere left to carry the boy, and he went down on his knees on the cold marble."Get the doctor," he rasped, his voice breaking as he laid Savio down as gently as if the boy were made of glass. "Somebody get the doctor, now."The ruined jacket fell away from Savio's back, and several men gasped. The white shirt underneath was soaked dark red from his neck to his belt. Gentile was shouting orders somewhere behind him. Boots pounded. A woman cried out. But Luca heard none of it. He heard only the tiny wet sound of Savio's breathing, and his mind dragged him back to the fire.It had been black under the beam. That was what he remembered most, the weight of the world on his chest and the taste of dust in his teeth. He had heard the building groaning above h
Riccardo rushed in first when they arrived back at the mansion.Luca followed…slowly.A little too slowly.The strong and confident stride that defined him was gone, and his usual aura of dominance suddenly looked like a candle that was struggling to stay lit. Blood was still slowly flowing from hi
Luca had booked out the entire aircraft, making every other seat empty except for the two of them… and the men stationed discreetly behind the cockpit door.Isabella sat with her arms crossed, carrying a large frown on her face. She hadn’t spoken to him in over twenty minutes.Luca, who had been wa
The hotel room door clicked shut behind Isabella, locking out the hallway noise and the memory of the police station with it. She didn’t waste any time in kicking her heels aside, taking off her clothes, and heading straight into the bathroom. She needed water and silence, and she needed a moment w
Dante Romano was in his office, casually sipping red wine with a rare smile on his lips. The cigar he had just finished lay in a silver ash tray in front of him, letting out small wisps of smoke.Lucho Vestari, one of his most trusted enforcers, was standing on the other side of the office, watchin







